


We can let go now, right?

by RougueShadowWolf



Series: 15 Minutes [52]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dying Stiles, M/M, Sick Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 10:29:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3974749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RougueShadowWolf/pseuds/RougueShadowWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The vibrant life was fading fast and there was nothing he could do but sit and wait for the end to come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We can let go now, right?

**Author's Note:**

> So I hate this one, I really do. But yeah so my friend (using the term loosely now) Toothpaste asked for a fic where Stiles gets deathly ill and that it should sort of revolve around Stiles and the sheriff as well as Derek Hale. I had an idea but the time ended before I could finish it so that’s why the ending is as stupid as it is.

 

****

 

Walking down an unfamiliar corridor of an equally unfamiliar hospital where his name or sheriff’s badge meant nothing, the nurse walking in front of him was quiet and had made no attempts at giving John Stilinski any false hopes, she seemed as grim as he was and perhaps she’d grown close to his son during these past months when Stiles had gone through his treatments unbeknownst to John;perhaps she’d found the talkative, spirited kid charming and funny, or perhaps just annoying or maybe she had never even spoke to his son John wouldn’t know because he wasn’t sure he could speak to anyone but his son at the moment.John walked down the corridor trying not to look over at the other sick people because he didn’t want to see them, see how his son might be, even after the grim talk with Dr. Davis he still refused to believe his son was in as deep trouble as the doctor had described, perhaps it was the shock that made him refuse to believe that his Stiles wasn’t going to see his next birthday or Christmas.

 

Sheriff John Stilinski had been at work when the phone call of despair had come,he’d been out of his chair and running towards his car the one his job provided him with as soon as the phone-call from Stiles was over. It washearing his baby boy sound so tearful, hopeless and raw asking him to come and get him that had driven John to drive like a madman, he’d driven without stopping once because all he knew was that his son was in hospital and in need of him; John hadn’t even called to cancel dinner with Melissa, he hadn’t even told his deputy where he was going, he’d just speeded down roads thinking about the way his son had cried on the phone calling him daddy and asking him to come and telling him how he wanted to come home. 

 

John had barely parked his car when a man in his fifties wearing a white coat and looking like Dr. Gregory House although without the cane and unlike the entertaining TV-character Dr. Davis was gentle and soft spoken, the man with a heavy southern accent had been treating his son for months and agreed to do the dirty-work of telling John everything; over a cup of coffee in the cafeteria the doctor told John Stilinski exactly what was going on with his son, not sugar-coating the situation, and by the end the Dr. Davis apologized for failing Stiles before walking-off to make sure Stiles had all the medication Stiles need to remain comfortable for the remaining weeks of his life.

 

Walking down the corridor John was trying to come to terms with the idea that his son was coming home with him to die. The idea that his son was dying made him feel incredibly old and worn, and the uneasiness he felt by the idea that his child is only child was dying was ten times worse than driving towards the unknown; there was nothing John Stilinski could do to change the fact that Stiles was coming home to die, his son was coming home to die where he felt most comfortable. 

 

John was angry, furious with his own stupidity. He should’ve known something was up, he was a complete idiot for so easily accepting Stiles decision not to come home for the holidays simply believing that his son was living the college life John had never been allowed to experience; but instead of going to parties his son had been going to various forms of therapy in an attempt to save his young life, instead of getting tattoos or piercings his son was losing his hair and getting his body pumped full with poisonous chemicals that hadn’t done him much good.

 

Sheriff Stilinski had dropped the ball when it came to his son, he should’ve known something wasn’t right when his son announced Skyping was no longer an option, he should’ve been a little bit more concerned when their weekly phone-calls died out and were replaced with messages he could barely answer without asking for some assistance from his fellow officers or Melissa; but he’d been too focus on his own job, on the blooming relationship between him and Melissa who unlike him had questioned Stiles’ behavior, and so he’d let the strange behavior go on without questioning it. There was no doubt that if John Stilinski had seen his son or heard him speak that a part of him would’ve known something wasn’t right, and his bright boy had known this. 

 

They pause outside a door and the nurse gives him a little sad smile before walking away, giving thus John the time he needs to gain some control of his emotions, he doesn’t want to break-down crying or snap at his son for being so stupid to think he could do all of this without his father ever knowing about it. 

 

John didn’t knock at the door simply slipped through it due to the fear he had that his resolve might break and he’d become the coward he’d been when his wife had been ill and dying, he’d left their son to deal with Claudia’s ever declining health and eventual death, and so he walks into the room that looked like every hospital room he’d seen before except in this one his son was in. 

 

His heart crumbles at the sight that greets him,his once so vibrant son sat on the bed that had probably housed one too many people waiting for the exit of life to come and end their misery, the pale light from the setting sun that whispered through the blinds made the bleakness of his son so much more detailed.Stiles had lost even more weight than what John had thought possible for a kid who’d always been on the leaner side of the scale, the clothes his son wore did nothing to hide the fact that his son had withered away into a pale skeletal figure who stared out into nothing with tired and hopeless eyes.The gauntness of his son was such a stark difference to the youthful energetic and smiling boy that had hugged him goodbye before John had climbed inside of Melissa’s car and driven away leaving his clever boy who’d managed to gain a scholarship to Berkley no less, never had he thought as Melissa drove him back to Beacon Hills that his son would have to fight for his life surrounded by strangers while keeping up the façade that he was doing fine and living the college life, never had John thought as he shed his few tears of pride and sorrow that his son would end-up only a few months later in a battle for his life a battle he’d been doomed to lose. ****

 

Stiles sat on the bed unaware that his father was there taking in the disturbing changes of his energetic hyperactive son, Stiles’ usual warm and vibrant appearance was lost and all that was left was a tired fragile thing, the messy brown hair gone and replaced by a bright red beanie. There was a disturbing greyness to his son’s once so warm pale skin, and it reminded John of the last weeks of Claudia’s life, there was no denying it his son was going to leave him too. 

 

With heavy steps, resolve breaking, he moved towards his boy who seemed to be completely unaware of his presence until John slipped his hand at the back of a the neck that felt positively breakable now and gave it a gentle squeeze, the contact seemed to draw his son out of his dreamlike state and tired brown eyes that seemed so hollow and empty now looked up at him and a chapped lipped mouth twisted up into a fragile smile that didn’t reach the haunting eyes of John’s only child a child he and Claudia had struggled to have.

 

`Hi dad.´ his son crocked and it left John speechless because Stiles didn’t even sound like his son anymore, and the face looking up at him had changed so much that he struggled to recognized it, Stiles was not only gaunt in his appearance but he’d also lost the hairs that made his eyebrows and even the long beautiful eyelashes were now gone. 

 

With a chocked out, `son´ John Stilinski wrapped his son into his arms and just held him, and something in his little boy broke as the boy he’d been the light of his life even after Claudia’s death had hollowed him out began to cry, but what truly caused him to cry was the way his son began to apologies for something Stiles had no power over, and it was the broken cries of “I’m sorry daddy” that caused John Stilinski to cry without shame or thought. 

 

** ~*~ **

 

Derek climbs through the familiar window, his body soaked by the rain that had started to beat down from the sky.He’s done this before checking on the sheriff without the man known while also taking some time soaking up the last traces of Stiles’ ever fading scent, he’d never imagined he would miss the talkative kid as much as he did or that doing the right thing could leave him feeling so hollowed out and lonely. 

 

He heads straight towards the closet where Stiles had left some of the clothes Lydia had forbidden Stiles from taking with him because according to her they would ensure that Stiles would continue to keep his statues as loser, Derek was both thankful and displeased by Lydia’s attention on Stiles college clothes; he was grateful for all the clothes left behind and unhappy over the fact that most of the clothes she’d picked-out for Stiles to wear were the sort that complimented Stiles assets. Derek has already opened the closet, hands roaming over family plaid shirts when he realizes there’s an extra heartbeat in the room, it’s an unfamiliar one and it caused Derek to turn on around at once growling slightly at the intruder sleeping in Stiles bed.

 

Derek felt his anger boil over the edges at the knowledge that some stranger had occupied not only Stiles’ room but also his bed, he stalked towards the bed on which Derek had slept a few nights when the ache inside his chest had grown to become too much to handle, he’s well prepared to grab the bastard and toss him out of the window like the trash he was but he’s brought to an immediate stop when he recognizes the person buried underneath several blankets.

 

His heart dropped to the floor because the stench of death and decay, sickness and pain are just too much to take when seeing the hairless skeletal deathly pale version of one Stiles Stilinski. **** Derek’s legs give out on him and he just drops to his knees beside the bed that had started to smell more like him than Stiles during the passing months, his body arching forward while desperate hands latch onto the one hand peeking out from underneath covers; the hand he holds no longer feels familiar to him, the stronger but slender hand was all skin and cold skin now, dry and cold like death has already come to collect the boy Derek had grown to love regardless of how hard he’d fought against the unwanted feeling. 

 

Derek begins to take some of the pain he fears the body he’d wished he could’ve worshipped the way he’d dreamt of doing for far too many nights. 

 

`De’ek? ´ Stiles mumbles, barely awake, and Derek reaches out to pet the cool and sunken cheek of the boy he’d never kissed.

 

Derek nods, swallows down the tears that want to escape him.

 

`I’m here. I’m here Stiles.´ Derek whispered in the dark room, a trembling hand moving to rest on the bald head the skin there feels dry and cold.

 

`I’ve missed you.´ Derek confesses as he looks into the eyes that had in the past filled him with hope but which now sucked ever last drop of it out of him because Stiles was barely there, there was but a weak flicker of life left and it was so wrong that Derek just wanted to curl around the body of the person he’d been too afraid to love and willing death away. 

 

`I’ve missed you too.´ Stiles says voice heavy and labored, but the words warm Derek’s heart a little, and Derek leans in closer and places a pathetic kiss on Stiles forehead and a scent of happiness escaped from the tired body not even the stench of decay and death could hide it. 

 

`Stay.´ Stiles asks, and Derek nearly laughs out, “Try and kick me out” but instead he slips into Stiles bed and pulls the dying youth against him, allowing Stiles to settle with his head on his shoulder and arms around him while Derek did the same only resting his chin on top of the hairless head, and before Stiles slipped back into a dreamless sleep the words slipped from his chapped and colorless lips shattered the last of Derek’s hope, `Thank you.´ 

 

Derek Hale lays there with his arms wrapped around Stiles Stilinski listening to the now unfamiliar heart beating one beat slower with each pump, and listening with dread as the breathing of the body he could no longer recognize grew slower and more labored. 

 

And as the first light of dawn sneaks through the window Derek calls for the sheriff with a loud sob before clutching the kid that had saved Derek more than once desperately to his own body wishing his own will would seep into the tired and worn body forcing it to continue breathing and living, he knows there are only minutes left before the last stubborn light was lost and so Derek cries into the ear by his lips, `I love you. I love you. I love you Stiles Stilinski.´ hoping that there’s just that much life left in Stiles for him to hear Derek’s last confession to him. 

 


End file.
